Mother Knows Best
by ThexInvisiblexGirl
Summary: missing scene for Within and Without. Margaret Scully gets her daughter's message.


**possible spoilers: Requiem, Within/Without, This is not Happening, DeadAlive**

**A/N: I was watching season 8 again, and it dawned on me that we never actually come clear on how Scully's mom learns about her daughter's pregnancy. Scully leaves her a message during Within, and then she only makes another appearance at Mulder's funeral, where Scully's pregnancy is already showing, so there's no way she doesn't know by then. This is my take on how she came to learn the truth.**

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Mother Knows Best

She couldn't believe it was time to go, that two weeks had flown by so fast. Time always did that, when she was visiting her son's family. Her grandchildren, Mathew and Daniel, insisted to come to the airport to say goodbye, even though it was still dark out when they had left the house. They were surprisingly awake throughout the ride, teasing one another and laughing at the backseat. She looked at them fondly through the rearview mirror. She was going to miss them so much. Those hasty visits were not enough; she was always hurting for days afterwards. She hated to be a grandma in long-distance.

Smiling bitterly to herself, she tore her eyes away from the mirror to steal a glance at her son. He was driving, his attention given to the road. He had his father's strong profile.

As if feeling her eyes on him, he reached out and covered her hand with his. "It will be summer before you know it. Maybe we'll manage a trip to Washington this time."

"That will be great, Bill. I'm sure Dana will love it too."

His hand tensed above hers. His forehead wrinkled with the slightest frown. "How is she these days?"

"Working." If there was one way to describe her younger daughter, that was it. She hesitated, and then said softly, "It won't kill you to give her a call every once in a while and ask her that personally."

Bill sighed. "Mom…"

"Alright, alright, I'm staying out of it," she replied, defeated. There was so much more she wanted to say, but she held back. It was probably for the best. There was no point pressing Bill. He used to do things his own way. She only hoped he would come to his senses about this one.

Soon they were at the airport, and she said her goodbyes to her son and grandchildren. It was early noon when she landed in Washington and headed home. It felt as if she hadn't been there for ages. Suddenly, she felt exhausted. She loved visiting her son's family, but each trip was getting more tiring than the previous one. It must be part of getting old, she thought grimly.

The first thing she did was opening the windows. A thin layer of dust was visible where the light hit the furniture. She didn't feel like cleaning or unpacking at the moment. She just needed to lay down for a bit. She noticed the blinking light of the answering machine on her way to the kitchen. She reached over to it and hit the Rewind. "You have five new messages," the mechanic female voice announced. Five messages in two weeks' absence; she wasn't sure if she was supposed to feel relieved or disappointed. A sudden, involuntary sense of loneliness washed over her. No one had missed her. She settled herself on the sofa, taking off her shoes as she listened.

"Hi Margaret, Nancy here. I'm calling to invite you to my grandson's birthday party next Sunday… five years old, can you believe it? Well, I guess you're not in. Call me when you get this."

Another grandson, another birthday party. It upset her that she was seeing her friends' grandsons more frequently than she did hers. Well luckily that was one party she hadn't been able to attend. She sighed inwardly and deleted the message. The next was from Tara, wanting to confirm her flight details. She was already on her way to the airport by the time Tara had made the call. She hit the delete on that one as well, waiting half-heartedly for the next message.

"Mom, it's Dana," the familiar, husky voice echoed through the living-room. "I, uh… I'm sorry I haven't called you in a while. I've been busy with work and, uh, with something… else that I should probably tell you about in person." Her forehead cringed in confusion. It wasn't like Dana to be so mysterious about things while calling. There was a clear edge to her voice as she continued speaking to the machine. "I mean, I don't even know if you're in town or if you're checking your messages," her voice quivered now, as if she was trying to hold back a sob. "But, uh… but I really need to see you and talk to you. There's a lot of stuff that's going on with me right now and, uh… and I just really need to talk." By then she was definitely crying, but before she could make any sense of it, the line crackled, and the message was cut off abruptly.

She didn't even hear the next two messages. She was panicking over Dana's. This emotional outburst was unusual for her daughter. It sounded as if she was holding back with all her might, and failing. She frantically tried to think back of the last time she had spoken with her. It was right before she and Fox left for Oregon. Dana came to see her the night before they left. She was worried about being back there, the place of their first case. The same boy was in trouble, Billy Miles, and as much as she felt obliged to help him, she feared the case would bring back ghosts from the past. She had a feeling something bad was going to happen. She remembered dismissing her daughter's concerns back then, but now she wondered what was wrong. Something had to be extremely wrong to make Dana break like that.

She picked up her phone and hit the speed dial for Dana's cell-phone. An automatic answering service picked up, as if her phone had been turned off. That was odd. Dana's cell-phone was never switched off, not even in the middle of the night. Of course, there was always a chance her battery had died, but somehow she had a feeling that wasn't the case. If she had suspected something was wrong before, now she was certain of it.

She tried her at home, too, but to no avail. Not even her answering machine picked up. There was no answer from Fox's apartment or cell-phone either. Were they still in Oregon? _Would_ they still be there, after almost three weeks?

There was only one more number she could think of to call to. She rarely used it; she knew they were busy and she didn't want to interrupt them. But that was an emergency. She tried to stop her fingers from shaking when she dialed Dana's direct line at the FBI.

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest while she was waiting for someone to pick up the phone in the basement office at the other end. She tapped her fingers against the armrest of the sofa, in time with the dial tone. One ring… two… three… "John Doggett."

Her eyes narrowed at the sound of the strange voice, a man's voice. It took her a moment to pull herself together. "I'm sorry, I must have gotten the wrong number."

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

"Could you transfer me to the X Files office please?"

"If it's the X Files office you're looking for, you don't have the wrong number, ma'am."

"Who are you?"

"My name is John Doggett, I'm working here. Now how can I help you?"

His voice was kind, but she still wasn't sure what he was doing down there. "I need to speak to Dana, is she in?"

"No, I'm afraid she's not."

"How about Fox?"

There was a pause, one which she couldn't quite interpret. "I'm afraid it's just me down here, ma'am. Would you mind telling me who you are?"

"My name is Margaret Scully – "

She thought she heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "You're agent Scully's mother?"

"That's right. I've been trying to reach her, and she's not answering her phone. Do you happen to know where she is?"

"Well, she was supposed to get discharged from the hospital this morning, but I haven't checked up on her to see if she's – "

"Wait, _what_? Hospital?" she asked urgently, feeling the blood draining from her face. Something _was_ wrong.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Scully, I… thought you knew," he said uncomfortably.

"I don't know anything, I was out of town. Would you mind telling me what it's all about?"

"Well, she was… injured, during an incident in one of our cases."

She forced herself to calm down, to keep her breath even. Panic would be no good. It certainly wouldn't help Dana. "How bad is she?"

"Nothing serious, just some cuts and bruises. Nothing to panic about, Mrs. Scully, I assure you. She's just taken a few days off to get some rest."

A sigh of relief escaped her, but she was still suspicious. "You said your name was John? What exactly are you doing in my daughter's office again?"

"I'm now assigned to the X Files, ma'am," he replied, in that enigmatic tone again. "Your daughter is safe and at home. I'm sure she's asleep, which is probably why she didn't answer your call."

"I hope so. Well, umm, thank you for your time."

But in spite of the momentary relief, panic washed over her the moment she put down the phone. She tried Dana's cell-phone again, then Fox's. Nothing. She listened to Dana's message again, carefully, trying to search for any hint, something, anything that might provide any inclination as for her daughter's situation. She sounded distressed. It'd been about a week since she had left her the message. Was it possible that this distress had driven her into the hospital eventually? No, it wasn't like Dana to act hastily about such matters, no matter what she was going through. Besides, she was a doctor, she wouldn't… would she?

She sighed. It was ridiculous. The man said that it happened while they were on a case. Her thoughts drifted to the voice at the other end of the phone again. John Doggett, he said his name was. But why would someone be down there in their office…?

For an hour or so, she wondered what to do next. If Dana was resting, she didn't want to bother her by showing up at her place. But the whole situation was odd, to say the least. Neither her nor Fox were answering their phones; she'd been trying to reach both every ten minutes or so. Perhaps someone was after them? It wouldn't be the first time. But she was getting restless as time passed. She couldn't just sit there and do nothing if her daughter was in danger. There was this pressing feeling at the pit of her stomach. Dana wouldn't leave her an enigmatic message like that for nothing.

She headed towards Georgetown at twilight. As she parked her car, she was relieved to notice light in Dana's apartment. Once more, she wondered if she was worried for nothing. Maybe. But her maternal instincts had never failed her before. And right now they had told her that Dana needed her help.

She knocked, and listened to the footsteps on the other side of the door. The door opened, and she released the breath she didn't even realize she was holding. Dana was fine; her face was horribly bruised, but at least she was safe, at least she was _alive_. Her eyes looked huge, glistening in the dim light from inside her apartment, so much like her father's.

"Mom," there was a hint of surprise to her tone.

"Hi, honey. Did I wake you?"

"No, I wasn't sleeping." Her voice was quiet, steady. "Come on in."

"I was worried about you. You're not answering your phone." She nodded, but said nothing. Her face was sealed, expressionless, like a mask. Her eyes, she now realized, were empty, except for that glimmer. She glanced at her bruised face again and shook her head. "This is a nasty bruise you've got there."

"It could have been worse." Knowing her daughter and her work, that much was true.

"I was visiting your brother in San Diego for the past two weeks," she said as they took a seat on the sofa. "I only got your message this morning." It took her a moment, but then a shadow crossed her face as if she remembered. "Is everything alright, Dana?" It looked as if there was an inner battle within her, as if she wanted to speak but couldn't, as if she didn't even know where to begin. She reached out and took her daughter's hand. "Dana, whatever it is… just let it out," she said gently.

Dana's lower lip quivered. She now realized the glimmer in her eyes. They were tears. They were now falling against her cheeks, but she didn't seem aware of them.

"Oh, honey, what is it?" she asked, scooping her daughter into his arms, letting her cry into her shoulder. She rubbed her back as sobs shook her whole body. It was as if she was six again. It was worrying. "Is it the case you've been working on, in Oregon?"

"Not exactly," Dana replied. Her voice was raspy from crying. She was horrified by what she had seen in her eyes, clearly visible beyond the tears; pain, despair, hopelessness. "It's Mulder. He's… gone."

A gasp escaped her before she could hold it back. Of course, it all fit. He wasn't answering his phone, there was a strange man in his office, claiming to be assigned to the X Files now, Dana was literally falling apart in front of her eyes; it all made sense. Nonetheless, it was hard to grasp. "How did he – "

"We're not sure. He's just… disappeared."

Now she was confused. She assumed that by 'gone', Dana meant he was dead. "I don't understand."

"After we wrapped up our case in Oregon, he came back there with our boss, to check on something. And they took him."

"What are you talking about? Who's 'them'?"

"The same people who took me before." Her voice remained even for a moment, but then another sob escaped her; soon she was crying again. "Oh mom… I just… I don't know what else to do. We've got people out looking for him, but I… I don't know who else to trust."

For a moment, she was helpless herself. She had never seen Dana like that before. It was heart-wrenching. She couldn't do much but holding her close, whispering comforting promises in her ear, promises that were probably lies, since she didn't really know how to make things better. And then she remembered her message. _Something else that I should probably tell you about in person_. "Was that the thing you wanted to tell me when you called?"

"No, umm… there's another thing," she whispered, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. The color went back to her cheeks, almost as if she was embarrassed.

"What is it, Dana?"

She laughed through her tears. "I'm not sure where to start. Something happened, mom. Something so amazing I'm having hard time figuring it out myself." Their eyes met. She was almost smiling now. "I'm pregnant."

She just stared at her daughter, letting the words sink in. "I thought the procedure didn't take." She knew all about that, she remembered the joy and hope when the possibility came up, and then the enormous grief when it failed, but that was months ago. She didn't even know Dana was trying again.

Dana nodded slowly. "That's right, it didn't."

"So how did you…" her voice trailed off. Within an instant, she had it all figured out now. Dana hadn't said anything. It was unnecessary for her to confirm or deny the wild thought that had suddenly presented itself to her, frightening and thrilling at the same time. She just knew. Suddenly, Fox's disappearance seemed all the more tragic. "Dana…"

"It's alright, mom. I'm fine. I'll be fine. It's just that I… wish he was here."

"Does he – "

"No. I didn't have a chance to tell him." Her lower lip trembled again. "I'm so afraid that now I never will."

"Dana, don't do that to yourself, not in your condition." She would be more devastated if she lost that baby. And that was not an option, not if it was up to her. "Does anyone else know about this?"

"Just my boss. I thought it would be best to keep a low profile for the time being."

She nodded. That was more like Dana. "How are you feeling? Morning sickness, tired, dizzy?"

"Yeah, a bit of everything, but I'm fine."

Physically, perhaps, but she could see the anxiety reflected from her daughter's eyes. She looked almost terrified. She took her hands again. "Don't be afraid," she whispered.

"But I _am_ afraid, mom. Not just for Mulder, but this," she said, laying her hands against her abdomen. "It was never supposed to happen. It couldn't have happened, and yet it has. Why?"

"Maybe someone thought you deserved a second chance."

"That's exactly what I'm worried about."

"What is, honey?"

"Who that someone is."

She sighed. She wondered when her daughter had started to sound so much like her partner. "Dana, can't you just settle on the more plausible explanation? That this is a miracle?"

Dana shook her head sadly. "I don't think I believe in miracles anymore, mom."

"Well, _I_ do," she insisted. "Never give up on a miracle, Dana."

Her expression transformed; it was wounded, agonized, as more tears welled in her eyes, falling against her cheeks. "Mulder said the same thing to me, once."

"Then how can you possibly doubt it?" She didn't reply, just wiped her tears, her expression distant. "The way I see it, you have only one choice. You're a doctor, you know the risks. Watch yourself, Dana. Don't do anything to endanger this baby. It's probably your only chance."

"I just… feel so alone."

"Well you're not. I'm here. I'm going to be there until it's born."

But she could see in Dana's eyes that this was not what she meant. She sighed and took her daughter in her arms once more, gently rocking her as if she was a baby herself. Soon her breath became stable; she fell asleep. She held her for a while, until she was sure she was sound asleep. Then she laid her back on the sofa and tucked a quilt around her. She settled herself on the armchair, watching her daughter's tortured slumber. She cursed the cruel coincidence, if it was a coincidence at all. What was supposed to be such a happy time for them would now be filled with fear, hurt, doubt. She hurt for her daughter. It seemed as if nothing was going on the easy way for Dana.

Her thoughts drifted to her conversation with Bill that morning. It felt as if it had happened ages ago. She agreed to let the matter be because she knew it was useless to push Bill into something he didn't want to do. She knew that like her husband, he wasn't pleased with the path Dana had chosen in her life. But she wished he would at least respect his sister's choices, try to understand them. William would have done so, if he was still with them. But now she couldn't help but wonder… what if Bill was right all along? What if Dana _had_ done all the wrong choices? She could have had a normal life and a family by now, had she taken a different path, instead of being anxious about an unborn child that was never meant to be, about a partner that had gone missing under mysterious circumstances.

She looked at her, arms wrapped around her still flat abdomen, her forehead wrinkled in disturbed slumber. Something within her told her it was going to be hard times, but she shook her head against this sudden thought. They would be fine. They would get through.

And as she drifted to slumber herself, she thought of the man that had become her daughter's whole life at some point of the way. She prayed he'd be back soon, back in time to witness the miracle that was his baby.


End file.
